


FF#49: Kidnapped (Again)

by skimmy77



Series: Olicity Drabbles [22]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Bratva, Kidnapping, Olicity Flash Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:52:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7955728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skimmy77/pseuds/skimmy77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity got kidnapped (again). Just another night at the office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FF#49: Kidnapped (Again)

Felicity took deep breaths to calm her racing heart. Her multiple kidnappings over the years have taught her a thing or two about keeping her shit together when bound and blindfolded. Sometimes it was rope around her wrists and a bag over her head; sometimes it was zip-ties and a bandana; tonight, it was handcuffs and a piece of fabric tied tightly around her head. At least these people didn’t gag her. Those were the worst. Panic and gags did not go well together.

The training she received (in spite of Oliver’s growly reluctance) kicked in, and she stretched out her senses to take in her surroundings. The floor under her bare feet was cold and damp. It felt like concrete. One small tap that returned a dull but short echo suggested a large room, like a basement in a building or an abandoned warehouse.

It was always an abandoned warehouse with these guys.

 The air smelled stale, which further confirmed her guess. Her chair was cold and hard, and probably made of metal. It felt like one of those folding chairs found at AA meetings or really low budget rental halls. This was good news; she could use it as a blunt weapon if she really needed to.

“Hello?” Her voice echoed off high ceilings, yet another box checked off the abandoned warehouse column.

Her hands were cuffed behind her, but she was not tethered to the chair. She could stand if she wanted to, but without sight, she’d more likely hurt herself by stumbling around.

“Okay, what else do you know?” she coached herself, hearing Diggle’s voice in her head. With a better understanding of her physical surroundings, she retreated back into her mind to find answers. She and Oliver had been keeping an eye on some suspicious activity by the loading docks. Shipping manifests that somehow got lost, containers that supposedly contained furniture but turned up empty upon inspection, and the inexplicable increase in large men with automatic rifles showing up for deliveries.

Oliver had gone out last night (on his own and without backup, much to Felicity’s continued annoyance), to spy on a delivery surrounded by the aforementioned men. She had distantly heard some conversation in Russian through the comms before another voice shouted near Oliver, and then the comms died. That was almost twenty hours ago. The tracker in his boot told her he was still at the docks, so Felicity decided to go look for him. Alone. Without calling for backup.

Not her brightest decision. She could admit that now.

Her captors were probably Bratva. Which was more good news. Oliver was a Captain, so they probably wouldn’t hurt him. A strong maybe. Well, hopefully. And if Oliver was alive and well, then he’d eventually find her, and she’d get out of this situation.

But she had no intention of playing the damsel, so she went to work.

She slid off the chair and crouched down, wriggling her cuffed hands under her butt and her legs before lifting them in front of her with a satisfied grunt. She reached into her shirt and her bra (thank god she wore one today), working on freeing the underwire. Once it was free, she picked the handcuffs easily and shoved the blindfold off of her head.

Blinking her eyes around the dimly lit space, she found herself in a bare concrete room, a little smaller than the old Foundry but bigger than the loft. The brown chair was the only bit of color breaking up the monotony of gray. When her eyes finally adjusted, she noticed a door in one corner and sprinted toward it. She pushed on the bar to open it, but it didn’t budge.

“Frack.” She placed her ear on the door to listen for any sound on the other side. An excited gasp flew out of her mouth when she heard the muted sounds of fighting and gunfire.

_Oliver._

Without thinking it through, Felicity began banging on the door and calling out his name, pushing on the bar sporadically in her haste to get out. As the sound of fighting grew closer, the pounding on the door grew more frantic.

The door opened suddenly, knocking Felicity off balance and spilling her into the hall. A tall, bearded man loomed over her with a gun, growling at her in Russian. He raised the barrel of his pistol toward her head, and all of her self-defense training finally kicked in.

She jumped to her feet and reached for his arm, pushing it away from her even as she spun into his body. She drove an elbow into his sternum as hard as she could, and the man grunted as the air left his lungs. She stomped on his foot with all her might, even though it probably made no difference since she was barefoot and he was not. His hand had loosened enough for her to wrench the gun away, and she spun and clocked him in the face. And before he had a chance to recover, she reared her leg back before driving her knee into his groin.

The man doubled over, one hand covering his nose and another clutching his groin. He fell over onto his side, still writhing, still groaning.

Then, Felicity heard rapid footsteps behind her. She whirled on her heels and raised the gun toward her attacker.

“Woah!” Oliver lurched to a stop as he threw up his hands. “It’s just me!”

All of the tension in Felicity’s frame drained out as she tossed the gun aside. “Oliver,” she breathed, and ran into his arms. His strong grip encircled her, making her feel safe and protected. She let herself indulge for a beat before pulling away, and found him staring at the other man on the ground.

“Wow,” he said, a small smile forming on his face. “You did that?”

Felicity only nodded as she started to tremble. “Can we go home now?” she asked in a small voice.

Oliver’s expression softened into concern. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”


End file.
